


Leaping and Stumbling, Stumbling and Climbing

by maraudersgirl47



Series: Running and Falling [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Season 4 Episode 12, Smut, Wolf!Derek, as long as you just accept the fact the Stiles and Derek got together after, minimal angst, sequel to a previous fic of mine, seriously just a bunch of fluffy stuff, you don't really have to read that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 17:30:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2396789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/maraudersgirl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He found Derek in the second to last cell, hunched up in the back corner, arms folded tight across his chest and scowl lining his face. He looked uninjured now, but there was dried blood across his knuckles and around his nose as if it had been broken at one point.</p><p>Stiles leaned against the bars, meeting Derek’s sour gaze across the space between them, he couldn’t contain a grin, “At least tell me you kicked the other guy’s ass?” Derek snorted, his arms loosening slightly as he relaxed with Stiles’ presence. “You do realize Scott was only joking about getting ourselves arrested this morning?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Stiles woke slowly – the distinctive dip to his mattress, followed by a damp snuffling, rousing him from whatever dreamlike state he’d been suspended in. He rolled off his stomach, groaning softly as he stretched his stiff limbs and reached blindly for the weight beside him.

“Mornin’ Der,” Stiles mumbled through his post sleep haze.

Derek whined happily in response, a much broader than human tongue lapping up Stiles’ neck as paws nudged at his side. Stiles laughed, even as his sleepy eyes refused to open for the morning sun, grabbing at soft fur to drag the wolf closer, “Have I ever told you how much I’m totally for these wake up calls?”

Stiles didn’t relinquish his grip, even as soft fur began to recede and be replaced by smooth, warm, skin. “Repeatedly.”

Stiles opened his eyes, grin stretching across his mouth as a smiling Derek was revealed above him. “Cause, it’s pretty great,” Stiles hummed as Derek leant down to kiss him chastely, “And you’re naked,” Stiles added as he trailed his fingers down Derek’s bare sides.

Derek rolled his eyes, even as he bent to place his lips back to the ones beneath him. He collapsed carefully beside Stiles once he was done, wrapping an arm securely around his waist and tugging him possessively closer as he buried his nose into his neck.

They lay in silence as minutes trickled by, Derek softly trailing his fingers up and down Stiles’ side as he began to slip back into a doze. After clicking his eyes back open for what had to be the ninth time, Stiles sighed dramatically, “I have school.”

“I know,” Derek replied, his voice muffled in the crease of Stiles’ neck.

“I don’t want to go.”

“I know.”

“I’m just gonna stay here.”

“No you’re not.”

“Party pooper,” Stiles half-heartedly nudged against Derek’s shoulder in disapproval.

“Come on,” Derek untangled himself from Stiles’ clinging limbs so he could sit upright, “I’ll drive you.”

“Der, you ran here.”

“I’ll drive the jeep.”

“You _always_ complain when you drive the jeep.”

“Cause it’s a hunk of junk.” Derek pushed himself up from the bed, walking to pull open the draw he was relatively sure he stashed a pair of jeans in the other day. Behind him he could hear Stiles determinedly burrowing himself further into his sheets and glancing over his shoulder saw that Stiles had taken it a step further and pulled the blanket high over his head.

After he managed to drag his pants on, Derek plopped back down next to what was now a fidgeting blanket ball. “Why are you being more stubborn than usual?”

“M’not,” came the muffled reply.

Derek gave a particularly firm tug to the edge of sheet he could see to get Stiles back in his sight, brown eyes wide as they stared up at him.

“Dude, no fair! No werewolf strength.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “And we’re not being overly stubborn?”

Stiles rolled onto his back, his legs progressively becoming more tangled between his sheets as he shifted, “Ugh – effort.” Stiles stretched his hand across the small space between the two of them to interlock his fingers with Derek’s, batting his eyes in what he clearly thought was an alluring way, “Don’t you want to spend the day with me?”

“Yes. However I recall the particular part in your father’s speech the other day, where he specifically stated that if your school attendance or grades begin to fall, _I_ won’t be allowed in the house.”

“Pfft, as if he’d hear you if you didn’t want him to.”

“Not,” Derek leaned to hover back over Stiles’ pouting face, “The point.” He kissed him quickly, licking into his mouth teasingly a couple of times, before dragging a still grumbling Stiles to his feet and pushing him towards the door. “Shower. Come on. Before I change my mind about driving your falling apart car.”

“You leave my baby out of this,” Stiles stated as he grabbed a clean shirt on the way out of his room, still mumbling under his breath up the hall Derek caught the words ‘grumpy’ and ‘sour-wolf’.

Derek snatched up one of Stiles’ flannel shirts that hung way too loose on Stiles but almost didn’t strain obscenely on him as he headed out of the room, dragging the checked material up his arms as he went to make coffee.

The house was empty asides from the two of them, Derek had watched the Sherriff pull out of the driveway before climbing the side of the house to Stiles’ window half an hour earlier. Stiles had been trying to make Derek tell him how he managed that climb with four paws for nearly two weeks now, Derek simply refused to answer only because it was amusing to hear Stiles’ ludicrous ideas of how he imagined four limbs could contort themselves.

A few minutes later Stiles came into view around the kitchen corner, shoving the last few books in his bag that would possibly fit. A grin splitting his face when he saw Derek casually leaning there, as if he somehow thought Derek would have left.

Stiles easily took the coffee mug Derek handed him and drained the entire cup in three large gulps. Derek rolled his eyes at the unhealthy action – for someone who put so much effort into monitoring their father’s diet, Stiles really didn’t pause to think too much about his own. Dumping the now empty cup in the sink, Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and lead him towards the door.

-/-/-/-

The short drive to Beacon Hills High later and Derek was back to persuading Stiles that to actually attend school, he had to physically get out of the car.

“Derek,” Stiles drawled in-between kisses, “I – don’t – wanna – go.”

Derek was doing his best to look stern and attempt not to laugh at Stiles’ petulant behaviour even as he easily kissed him back, having pulled Stiles almost all the way across the front seat of the jeep and into his lap in the few moments they’d been stationary in the parking lot.

Derek was sure he was almost about to give in, his hand firmly twisted in Stiles’ hair as he continued to drag him closer, Stiles’ hands trying to sneak their way under his borrowed shirt – until there was a loud rap against the driver side window.

In his haste to jerk away from Derek, Stiles hit his head against the roof of the car and was still rubbing it sourly when he opened the door to a loudly laughing Scott.

“Come on dude, before your Dad comes to arrest you for indecent behaviour.”

“Shut up,” Stiles clambered out of the car and pushed Scott towards the school as he continued to cackle. Stiles turned back to say goodbye to Derek, wrapping his arms around his neck overenthusiastically just to spite Scott’s laughter. “Remember I don’t have class this afternoon so come pick me up early.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Yes, Stiles.”

“And take care of my car.”

Stiles leaned in to kiss him again, the two of them almost getting lost in each other before Scott called loudly over his shoulder “STILES!”

Stiles grinned as he broke away from Derek, “I’ll see you later.”

Derek nodded as he watched Stiles jog to catch up to his best friend who was standing shaking his head on the front steps of school fondly.

-/-/-/-

When Scott walked out the front doors of school after the last bell of the day, Kira next to him with her hand in his, he was incredibly surprised to see Stiles at the edge of the parking lot, pacing and looking entirely stressed out. Kira noticed him as well, frowned, and tugged Scott towards him.

“Hey man,” Scott said easily, “What’s goin’ on?”

Stiles turned round at the familiar voice and shrugged his shoulders as if he was trying to act casual, “Hey.”

“Where’s Derek? Wasn’t he meant to pick you up over an hour ago?”

Stiles shrugged again, his eyes flicking around the parking lot as he passed his phone agitatedly from hand to hand.

“Stiles?” Kira prompted, concern in her tone.

“Yeah? Um, he’s late. Or he got busy and he forgot, you know?” Even as he spoke Stiles continued to glance at the cars beginning to move around the clearing lot as if he expected his jeep to appear amongst them, “Or maybe he went out running, and lost track of time. He does that. I can’t get on to him, but if he’s running he won’t have his phone so that still makes sense. Or -”

Scott’s scoff cut Stiles’ rambling off, “Seriously man, he was your entire schedule ingrained in his head, he doesn’t forget.”

“Yeah, he’s probably on his way. Traffic or something,” Stiles almost dropped his phone as he continued to fumble with it and Scott and Kira exchanged an alarmed look. “Guys, seriously, it’s cool. He’ll be here soon.”

Scott opened his mouth to protest, but Stiles cut him off, “Scott, don’t. Just go do whatever you two were going to do.” He tried to crack a grin but his tone dropped far short from his general insinuations.

“Are you sure you don’t want a lift home?” Kira asked quietly.

Stiles nodded fixedly, “I’ll see you later.”

Stiles didn’t watch the two of them walk away, and refused to glance and meet Scott’s eye when he knew his best friend was looking back across the lot at him in concern.

Ten minutes later and the parking lot had almost emptied, everyone keen to leave school grounds with as much haste as they could muster. Stiles had stopped pacing, his phone loose in his hand as he stared blindly at his surroundings.

Taking a deep breath he snatched his bag up from the ground where he’d dumped it some time ago, hoisted it over a shoulder, and set off in the direction of home.

Deep down he felt like he was being stupid. He knew he shouldn’t expect Derek to just show up whenever he wanted him to, he shouldn’t be so dependent on him. They’d only been together what? Two weeks? And Stiles already expected him to just be there? That was stupid.

As he walked a track that had once been quite familiar to him but one he’d stopped using ever since he’d got the jeep, he couldn’t help the internal war in his mind. Because he wasn’t being _entirely_ stupid. Derek had completely agreed to meet him after classes, just like they’d been meeting after school almost every day. Derek hadn’t exactly been an unwilling participant in the showing up whenever Stiles was free and wanted to see him until now.

Stiles kicked at a stone that lay out of place on the path in front of him and watched it bounce ahead.

He was a couple of streets away from home, thoughts ranging from bitter to panicked continuing to flick through his head, before he punched in the code to unlock his phone and tried Derek’s mobile again. The familiar ringing tone sounded its usual number of times, every extra ring seeming to clutch at Stiles’ chest, until the voicemail clicked in just like it had every other time that afternoon.

Stiles hung up on it.

As his house finally loomed into sight the thought Stiles hated the most was forefront in his mind – What if something was wrong? What if Derek wasn’t answering his phone because he couldn’t? What if he was hurt – or worse?

Stiles hadn’t noticed his hands had been shaking until he was trying to shove his key into the front door and couldn’t quite manage it.

He stopped. Leaning his hand heavily against the wooden barrier for support, he took a deep shuddering breath as he tried to ignore the sting behind his eyes.

Stiles gave a yelp of surprise when the door opened inwards, he managed to remain upright as he came face to face with his confused looking father. Glancing back behind him, Stiles realised he’d been so lost in his head he’d walked blindly past the cruiser parked in the driveway.

“What are you doin’ kid?” His Dad asked, laughter in his tone before his face clouded with concern and he frowned, “Did you walk home?”

Stiles nodded.

“Where’s the jeep?”

“Derek’s got it,” Stiles responded as evenly as he could.

“Ah,” His Dad responded hesitantly.

“Ah? Ah, what?” Stiles muttered as he attempted to brush past his father, head down, not really in the mood to talk.

“Well if I’d have known that I would have come and picked you up. Derek didn’t mention -”

Stiles had just reached the base of the stairs when he spun back round, eyes trained on his father, “What? You’ve seen Derek? Where is he?”

The Sherriff hesitated momentarily, eyeing his son cautiously, “At the station.” Stiles made an exaggerated movement for his father to continue and his Dad rolled his eyes, “In a holding cell, he was arrested this afternoon.”

“WHAT!?” Stiles exclaimed loudly, “Just because you don’t like the fact that me and him are together you can’t just -”

“Whoa, kid, I didn’t. He and another guy were literally brawling in the middle of town and another couple of deputy’s picked them up.”

Stiles stood opening and closing his mouth a couple of times as if he’d lost the ability to form speech, before he was heading back for the door.

“Where are you going?” His Dad asked exasperated.

“The station,” Stiles stated firmly.

“You don’t have your car,” his father pointed out reasonably.

“So I’ll walk.”

His father shook his head to himself even as he grabbed the cruiser keys and followed his son out the door.

-/-/-/-

Stiles was fidgety the entire drive across town to the Sherriff’s station. He tried to sit still, especially when his Dad kept shooting him annoyed looks whenever he started fiddling with the radio, but he just needed something to do with his hands. “Just tell me again -”

“Stiles,” His Dad started, patience clearly beginning to wear thin, “I explained. Derek and this man, Marcus, were physically fighting out the front of that little burger place over on sixth. No one called us but the deputies were driving by and saw them, apparently it took a lot to pull them apart – which knowing Derek, I’m sure you can imagine – and they both resisted so they were brought in.”

The Sherriff pressed on even as Stiles opened his mouth to protest, “ _My_ deputies were just doing their job. And from what Parrish said after he’d been to see them both in the holding cells, from the lack of broken bones and bruises, this other guy is about as normal as Derek is.”

Stiles shot his father a look at the werewolf jab but kept his mouth shut.

He didn’t wait for his Dad once they pulled into the park out the front of the station that was clearly marked ‘Sherriff’, heading straight for the doors and barely glancing at whoever was on reception today for the okay that he was allowed past.

He’d almost walked past the bustling office section when he paused at the sound of his name, turning he saw Lydia perched on the edge of a desk and waving him over.

“Come to visit your criminal boyfriend?” She asked when he was close enough, a smirk lingering around her lips.

“Ha ha Lyds, hilarious,” But he couldn’t maintain his scowl. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re reading,” She motioned to Parrish behind her, whose desk she was seated on, his head bent low over the book they’d transferred the bestiary to.

Stiles nodded distractedly, leaning past Lydia and reaching for Parrish’s keys that were laying on the desk.

“Stiles,” Parrish said warningly, glancing up from the page he’d been engrossed in and grabbing his keys before Stiles could.

“What?” Stiles responded with an innocent air, “I’m just borrowing them.”

Stiles ignored the look Parrish and Lydia exchanged before Parrish continued, “Won’t do you no good anyway. The guys who brought him in must have been scarred of him or something, locked him in one of the further cells, I don’t have that key.”

“Ugh,” Stiles rolled his eyes, it wasn’t Derek’s fault he just looked overly intimidating.

“Go talk to your Dad,” Parrish suggested.

Stiles waved him off as he turned away and started back the way he’d been originally heading. He trotted off towards the cells, punching in the code he’d known since he was eight to pass the heavy metal door allowing him to go further.

He found Derek in the second to last cell, hunched up in the back corner, arms folded tight across his chest and scowl lining his face. He looked uninjured now, but there was dried blood across his knuckles and around his nose as if it had been broken at one point.

Stiles leaned against the bars, meeting Derek’s sour gaze across the space between them, he couldn’t contain a grin, “At least tell me you kicked the other guy’s ass?” Derek snorted, his arms loosening slightly as he relaxed with Stiles’ presence. “You do realize Scott was only joking about getting ourselves arrested this morning?”

“I didn’t mean -” Derek began defensively.

“You didn’t mean to beat up a guy in public?”

Derek grunted, “He deserved it.”

“You know him? Cause Parrish said it looked like, you _know_ , that he might have been like you.”

Derek pulled a face but nodded, “His name’s Marcus Woemont, the pack he’s a part of used to live not far from here, ages ago. We never got on, even as kids.” He scuffed the toe of his boot against the ground, “He shouldn’t just be hanging around here, so -”

“So you got all territorial and kicked his ass, got that bit.”

“M’not territorial,” Derek muttered so low Stiles almost couldn’t hear him.

Stiles nodded comically, “Hence the jail cell.” Derek glared at him. “And why I had to walk home and start freaking out cause I couldn’t contact you.”

Derek’s face fell from grouchy to one full of guilt instantly, “I’m sorry. They took my phone. And Parrish and your Dad apparently thought the whole thing was hilarious -”

“It is hilarious, it’s fucking great, I’m laughing along with the rest of them at big bad protective Derek. But this just proves too much shit goes wrong in our lives. I shouldn’t immediately be concerned every time you don’t answer your phone.”

“I probably shouldn’t have hit him,” Derek mumbled.

“You probably shouldn’t have hit him with witnesses present,” Stiles corrected.

Derek grinned across at him, “You know if you lean any further through those bars you’re going to get stuck.

Stiles glanced down at his own position as if he hadn’t noticed he’d been standing in a way that resembled him trying to morph his way through the bars and be on the same side as Derek. Stiles pouted jokingly and made grabby hands in Derek’s direction.

Derek chuckled, hoisting himself up from the hard metal they called a seat and walked over to where Stiles was standing, just out of reach. Stiles stretched his arm an inch further, grabbing the corner of Derek’s jacket and tugged him firmly closer, “Asshole.”

Derek was still laughing as he wound his arms through the bars to return the awkward hug Stiles was managing past the barriers of steel.

When Derek grasped the base of Stiles’ neck and tilted his head back he frowned when Stiles pulled away. “Dude, no. You are disgustingly covered in blood.”

Derek smirked as he grabbed a hold of Stiles tighter, yanked his face round by his chin and kissed him anyway. Stiles grinned into it behind his fake resistance and opened his mouth to Derek. “Disgusting,” Stiles said after he pulled back, smirk still across his mouth.

Derek rolled his eyes, “Go find someone to let me out.”

“Hmmm, maybe I should let you rot for a little while longer,” Stiles hummed thoughtfully, “Might go grab a snack.”

“Stiles,” Derek lowered his voice, “Go steal some keys and I’ll take you home and blow you.”

“Deal!”

Derek’s arms were empty and Stiles was disappearing around the corner faster than Derek could process. Derek was still shaking his head, barely turned back towards his previous seat before Stiles reappeared, “Dude, I totally forgot the most important thing.” Derek raised his eyebrows questioningly, “Where the hell’s my car?”

“Stiles! KEYS!”

-/-/-/-

Stiles and Derek ended up walking the short distance from the station to the supermarket parking lot where Stiles’ jeep had been for the majority of the day. After, of course, Stiles convincing his father to let Derek out of the holding cell as Lydia and Parrish both tried to hide their laughter in the background.

Stiles was finishing a message to Scott who had been texting him constantly for the past forty minutes to find out if he’d managed to find Derek yet. Stiles figured Kira must have had to go home, and he certainly didn’t plan to exaggerate his boyfriend’s heroic deeds in his response.

He leaned into Derek heavily when an arm curled its way around his shoulder. Derek snorted next to him, reading the screen, “Stiles, I don’t think punching someone I don’t like counts as ‘protecting our lands from perilous supernatural threats’.”

“Yeah, but this sounds so much cooler.”

Derek pressed his lips into Stiles’ hair, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Your shout right, cause you abandoned me and all.”

“I didn’t -” Derek started but conceded quickly, rolling his eyes at the easy bait, “Yes, my shout. What do you want?”

Stiles hummed thoughtfully, “Pizza. Oh! And curly fries.”

“That’s two different stops,” Derek attempted to reason.

“Which we’re making because you abandoned me,” Stiles laughed at Derek’s scowl, slipping out of Derek’s reach as they approached the jeep, “Ah, safe and sound,” Stiles patted the hood affectionately as he passed.

“Did you doubt that it would be?”

Stiles snorted as he opened the passenger side door, “Dude, you got arrested. I’m never leaving her in your hands again.”

Stiles was still grinning smugly when Derek slipped into the driver’s seat beside him. Derek reached across the space between them, grabbing the back of Stiles’ shirt and dragging him across the seat harshly so he could roughly wipe that smirk away. Stiles opened his mouth to the kiss quickly, wrapping his arm round Derek’s neck at the awkward angle and tugging him closer.

“What was that for?” Stiles asked when Derek began to pull back, chaste presses of his closed mouth moving their way to Stiles’ jaw.

Derek huffed, “The cell was boring.”

“Yeah, I missed you too,” Stiles surmised, tilting Derek’s jaw back up so he could kiss him again. Stiles’ breath was starting to come more quickly, his hand working its way down to sneak up the front of his flannel shirt that Derek still hadn’t dispensed of, as Derek teased at his mouth with his tongue, grinning into him. Stiles panted against his neck with a questioning lilt, “Maybe we should skip the food?”

“No,” Derek stated as he reluctantly broke away from Stiles’ mouth. He tugged Stiles’ hand out of his hair, kissing the back of his knuckles before placing the appendage back on Stiles’ side of the car. “If you skip food now it’ll be something like midnight when you start complaining you’re hungry.”

“Der, that was one time,” Stiles scoffed, even as he slid reasonably back into his seat.

“Twice,” Derek corrected, “Pizza it is.”

“And curly fries!”

Derek glanced across to see Stiles grinning over at him shyly and he granted with ease, “And curly fries.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no denying it, this is just smut...

Stiles was laughing – not just a giggle, but a full blown shoulder shaking, head thrown back in hysterics kind of laugh – as Derek unceremoniously threw him down against his unkempt mattress.

“Dude,” Stiles managed between wheezing breaths, “I can just imagine his fuckin’ face when you – sweet little let’s talk this out Derek – throwing the first punch like a teenager.”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Scott’s the diplomatic one.”

Stiles snorted, “Scott’s the one naive enough to believe everybody’s a saint deep down.” He pressed his lips together, gazing up at the figure above him and clearly trying to contain the peeling laughter that wanted to continue, “But I thought you’d grown out of the punch first, ask questions never, tactic.”

Derek barred his teeth and growled above him, dropping down to his knees and bracketing Stiles in between his chest and the sheets.

Stiles was still laughing, “Oooo threatening.”

Derek rolled his eyes in defeat, leaning the last few inches to press his lips deeply to Stiles’, slipping his hand between Stiles’ back and the bed to hold him up when Stiles arched hungrily into him.

“You used to be afraid of me,” Derek murmured into the air between their mouths.

Stiles scoffed, “Hardly,” he grappled at Derek’s hair as the older man moved to suck lightly at the pulse point in his neck, “Maybe for like two minutes.”

Derek huffed a disbelieving breath as he lightly grazed his teeth against the skin beneath his lips, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“And?” Stiles challenged as he trailed his fingers confidently over the ridge of Derek’s covered spine.

“And you’re a liar.” Derek moved back to Stiles’ mouth, flicking his tongue against closed lips and pulling back just so he could grin when Stiles chased him.

“Technically, is it still lying if I know, that you know, that I’m lying?”

Derek ignored the question, much too concerned with the philosophical look that had overtaken Stiles’ features which always appeared when Stiles was straining his brain on too many werewolf tendencies. To rectify the situation Derek hoisted Stiles’ chin up, licking his way back into his mouth and twisting their tongues together, before Stiles could become too lost in his rampaging head.

“Stiles,” Derek trailed his fingers up Stiles’ sides as Stiles moaned in response, “Take your clothes off.”

“With pleasure, Mr demanding.” Stiles wriggled his way out of his shirt with slight difficulty as Derek was hovering so close above him, but with the immediate press of Derek’s warm, wet, mouth trailing across his newly uncovered torso he wasn’t about to push him away for further room.

Stiles had been complaining he was cold in the draft filled loft about ten minutes ago, when the two of them had been pressed together on the couch finishing their makeshift dinner. Now he felt like his skin was on fire, blazing trails being left in the wake of Derek’s wondering mouth as he continued to lavish attention across his chest.

Derek hooked a hand behind his knee and dragged Stiles’ leg up to bracket against his side, pulling his lower body higher. Stiles’ head fell back against a well laid pillow when Derek’s thigh slotted between Stiles’ legs and pressed exactly where Stiles could feel the pressure against his hardening cock.

“Okay, the decision has been made,” Stiles began, his voice deeper than normal and Derek couldn’t help but grin down at him, “Clothes are a stupid invention.” He fumbled with the button of Derek’s jeans, “Like, what even? What a pointless – they need to go.”

“Okay,” Derek agreed readily, his hands shifted to the ridge of Stiles’ jeans, hastening to unfasten them, before dragging them and the thin boxers underneath down his thighs and off his kicking feet.

Derek’s grin was almost feral when he gazed down at Stiles completely bare beneath him, leaning down to press the line of his body against Stiles’, fabric rubbing harshly against stripped skin and sealing their mouths together impatiently.

Stiles met him readily, fingers curling around Derek’s when Derek reached for his hand and pinned a wrist beside his head. Derek’s other hand was trailing further and further down Stiles’ body, Stiles arching into the digits as they pressed into different points along the extended expanses of skin. Stiles almost whined in frustration when teasing fingers toyed around the top of his thigh, sliding into the crease of his hip and refused to trail lower.

“I feel at a slight disadvantage here,” Stiles eventually muttered. His completely naked form being pinned to the bed by Derek who was smiling smugly against his skin and still completely clothed above him.

“Do you?” Derek asked teasingly. “And here I thought you wouldn’t be complaining,” Derek stated with an air of disbelief, before sliding his way down Stiles’ body, hands moving to pin Stiles’ hips firmly to the bed, and wrapping his lips around Stiles’ leaking dick.

“Oh fuck!” Stiles groaned, as his head once again tipped back.

Derek hummed around him, sucking shallowly. He pulled off, licked his way up the underside of Stiles’ throbbing cock, before sinking back down deeper than before. Stiles attempted to thrust up into the dense heat futilely as Derek kept a firm grip on his hips, fingers digging into his skin just the right side of painful.

Derek continued to tease him, pulling back any moment that he felt Stiles might get too close, Stiles letting out little uncontrollable gasps above him, fingers twisting almost painfully into his hair as he tried to push him deeper.

“Der, you’re killin’ me here,” Stiles eventually ground out, “I need – ah, shit – Derek, come on.”

Derek chuckled when he moved back, pressing his spit slick lips into the indent of Stiles’ hip as he traded his mouth for his fingers around Stiles’ slick cock.

“Asshole,” Stiles muttered under his breath at the laughter, “Still fully clothed asshole,” he amended as Derek gave a particularly extravagant flick of his wrist that had Stiles’ eyes flickering shut.

Stiles grinned gleefully when a bunch of material flopped across his face, opening his eyes to a covering of checked flannel he reached up to toss the shirt aside so he could watch Derek finish unbuttoning his too tight jeans.

Meeting Stiles’ sparkling gaze Derek grinned down at him, hands ceasing their movement as he dropped down to press an open mouthed kiss against Stiles’ grinning lips, Stiles arching up into Derek’s finally bare chest and running his palms down the smooth planes of his shoulders.

“Much better,” Stiles murmured as Derek receded, licking his way back down Stiles’ torso, skirting around his dripping cock and lifting his hips up with a sharp jerk so he could reach further underneath.

“Holy fucking-” Stiles trailed off into some undistinguishable profanity as Derek’s tongue made its way along the crease of his ass, “ _Derek.”_

Derek hummed in response far too innocently for someone who was currently lapping eagerly where his tongue continued to explore. Pushing between Stiles’ clenching cheeks and slipping against the rim of his hole, the motion causing Stiles to shudder above him.

Continuing his ministrations, Derek stretched a hand up to Stiles’ noiselessly working lips, quickly picking up the intention Stiles tilted his head so he could easily suck two of Derek’s long fingers into his mouth. He lapped at the digits messily, tongue slipping around knuckles clumsily to try and create as much saliva as he could. Stiles seemed almost reluctant to allow Derek to take his hand back, his fingers escaping Stiles’ mouth with a noisy pop, before lining up with Derek’s tongue, the now wet tip of his index finger pressing against the edge of Stiles’ hole.

Stiles wasn’t sure how much longer he could take Derek’s slow pace. The joints in his knees and the muscles in his thighs beginning to feel the strain of Derek keeping him practically still, even as Derek only worked in a second finger.

Seeming to sense the impending complaint Derek pressed in a third digit, the burn running up the length of Stiles’ spine. Derek was there to catch the groan that Stiles couldn’t contain, kissing him deeply and swallowing the sounds he continued to make even as he impatiently wiggled his ass trying to push Derek’s fingers deeper.

“Eager,” Derek raised an eyebrow down at him.

“Na,” Stiles blatantly lied, the sound drawing out as Derek strategically crooked his fingers inside him.

“I’ll continue to take my time then.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Stiles glowered up at him.

Derek chuckled as he kissed him again, working his fingers more insistently inside Stiles, continuing until Stiles began to arch up from the mattress before pulling away completely.

Stiles’ squawk of protest transformed into a complete ascent of approval when Derek used his free hands to quickly divest himself of his remaining clothes. Hissing as he dragged his underwear over his straining cock – Stiles wasn’t sure how he’d been able to keep his pants on so long without being entirely uncomfortable.

Stiles was reaching to drag Derek back above him, kissing him hurriedly as he scrapped his hand down Derek’s chest, curling his fingers around Derek’s dripping cock lightly, teasingly.

Stiles unceremoniously batted Derek’s hand away when Derek went to place his fingers back at Stiles’ slick hole. Derek cocked an eyebrow, “Don’t -”

“I’m not. I’m serious. I’m good,” Stiles responded easily, grinning up at the pondering man above him, knowing Derek was waiting to see if he could hear a tick of a lie in Stiles’ heartbeat.

“Good,” Derek growled down to him, reaching his conclusion. Licking his palm dirtily he grasped his cock in his hand instead, pumping himself slowly a few times before hooking his hands behind Stiles’ knees and dragging him exactly where he wanted him.

Derek pushed in slowly, Stiles’ hips raising off the bed beneath them to meet him, his head pressed back but his gaze resolutely locked onto Derek’s absorbed expression.

They both stilled when Derek had sunk all the way in, Stiles’ hands clenched in the sheets as Derek’s thumbs rubbed soothing circles into his sides waiting for approval to move. The barest hint of a nod from Stiles, the grin back across his mouth, and Derek was in motion.

Stiles met him for every move, the both of them grappling against each other to try and impossibly drag the other closer as Derek fucked him with a primal determination.

Derek was growling low against Stiles’ skin, teeth teasing along the long expanse of Stiles’ throat, one of Stiles’ hands on his ass trying to force him deeper the other splayed across the ink between his shoulder blades.

Stiles yelled, neck and back arching, when Derek’s cock rammed into that little bundle of nerves inside him that shot everything into white lights and sensation.

Stiles clutched his fingers at the base of Derek’s neck, hauling him up and sealing their lips together as Derek continued to piston his hips, a hand coming to wrap around Stiles’ cock that was hitting his stomach and Stiles felt his hold quickly slipping away.

He came with a low groan, his teeth snagging harshly into Derek’s bottom lip, nails biting into whatever part of Derek they were currently latched to.

Once, twice more, and Derek had the points of fangs grazing Stiles’ shoulder, arms around Stiles’ back as he clutched the boy to him and tipped over the edge, his cock still buried deep inside his ass.

Their breathing was erratic as Derek managed to hold himself above Stiles, arms firm as they both slowly spiralled down. Dopey grin across his face Stiles wriggled his ass pointedly for Derek to carefully pull out, they could both feel the trail of come already leaking out of Stiles’ abused hole as he shifted away.

Derek dropped himself beside Stiles and barely had a moment of coolness before there were hands reaching for his face and tilting his chin to be met by slack lips.  

“We’re so damn good at that.”

Derek couldn’t even fathom the energy to snort at the ridiculous comment, instead he found himself curling his fingers into Stiles’ completely messed up hair and pulling him back in for another kiss.

They continued to exchange lazy pecks, hands much less insistent than before trailing over cooling bodies. Eventually Derek tugged one of the sheets out from underneath their twisted limbs and flung it over the both of them.

Stiles’ voice was still managing to form words, albeit at a slower rate than normal, “Was there really any point to me buying proper lube?”

“Probably not,” Derek admitted into the pillow where his face was squished.

Stiles snorted, “Thought not. You’re too impatient for such concepts.” His eyes felt like they were growing heavier with every one of his slurred words.  

“Yeah, I’m the impatient one,” Derek mumbled into his pillow. He blindly extended his arm out to the side, curling his fingers around the dip of Stiles’ waist and dragging him closer.

Stiles hummed happily as he turned with the movement, tossing an arm over Derek’s shoulders as he buried his face into his neck. “We have time to do the slow things. And the rest of the fast things. We have time for all of it. Impatience or not.” Stiles’ words had become even drowsier, sleep clearly racing up on him quickly.

Derek twisted his neck so he could press his lips against the closest part of Stiles he could reach, “Tomorrow.”

“All of it, tomorrow? Wow, you are ambitious. I’m totally game.”

Derek could feel Stiles’ eyelashes fluttering closed against his neck, even with Stiles’ clear resistance. “Go to sleep Stiles.”

A few moments passed in silence, Stiles’ breath evening out, before words were forming their way out of his mouth again, “Hey Derek?” Derek merely grunted to acknowledge he was still paying attention. “You totally beat up a guy.”

“Oh my god Stiles. No. Go to sleep!”

Before he could stop it Stiles was once again in a fit of laughter, all tiredness seeming to zap itself from his body as the younger boy plastered himself across his back in a fit of motion, “My big bad territorial Derek.”

Derek rolled underneath him, dragging Stiles down against him and once again effectively shutting him up with the use of his tongue.


End file.
